


greenhorn

by en passant (corinthian)



Series: this time, a happy end [1]
Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Gen, wait wait I can explain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 10:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6048628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corinthian/pseuds/en%20passant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Siegfried loves being a hero of justice and Robin Hood claims to allergic to such a thing.</p><p>That's... kind of good grounds for companionship.......... right?!</p>
            </blockquote>





	greenhorn

**Author's Note:**

> I'm moving on from my greatest hits "small canon, big indulgences" to "zero canon, bigger indulgences!"

When Siegfried is summoned, his Master is in the middle of a difficult battle in Orleans and her face lights up. She grabs his hand and shouts, "Perfect! You're here! Let's go!" And then with absolutely zero preparation she drags him further into the throng of wyverns.

The fight isn't so bad, at first. The wyverns are easy, Siegfried _is_ a dragonslayer after all. But the wyverns keep coming and even Siegfried's arms eventually tire. His Master spends two of her command seals on her other Servants, but they keep getting pushed back.

And then there's the Fafnir.

"This shouldn't be a problem, right?" His Master asks, points to the Fafnir, points to Siegfried.

It's difficult. Logically, the answer is: it is a problem. But he's a celebrated hero and the Fafnir should be no problem for him. But there are complications with being newly summoned, how long the battle has gone on and all of that.

"Ah," he says in response. He'll defend his new Master with his life — but it doesn't come to that.

"All right! Let's finish it in one go!"

Siegfried doesn't expect the new voice or the new Servant — one of his Master's backrow Servants, a young man dressed in green — and he certainly doesn't expect the massive tree to spring up around the Fafnir and instantly kill it.

"Man, I can't trust you to do anything, can I, Mr. Gold Saber?" The newly arrived Archer grins and gives Siegfried a two-fingered wave before turning to their Master. "Since I saved you, does that mean I deserve a kiss as a thank you?" He taps his cheek.

"Robin!" She scrambles away from Siegfried's side and does exactly as Robin asks — plants her lips firmly to his cheek. Siegfried watches as Robin turns red, swats at their Master and pulls the edge of his hood down lower over his face.

"Ahh — people will think you're too giving if you just kiss people like that!" He fumbles a quick reply, hand still flapping at their Master, "C'mon, c'mon, you need to save that for a hero."

"Hm? A hero? Didn't you just save us?" She asks.

"And for that, I'm thankful." Siegfried adds.

"Tch, a bunch of softies. Next time I'll let you get eaten, so you learn a lesson." Robin grumbles. Siegfried can't help but think that they'll get along.

* * *

Orleans is difficult. His Master wracks her brain trying to arrange them in the best possible formation. Usually, it's Siegfried in the front with Stheno and borrowed help from the saint, Jeanne D'Arc with then Robin in the back, with Matthew.

More often than not, Siegfried finds himself in a long drawn out battle, with Jeanne bolstering their defenses and Robin sliding in to deliver a finishing blow. He doesn't see many of the other Servant's skills, just the Noble Phantasm, Yew Bow.

It's only after they successfully campaign through Orleans that Siegfried gets to see Robin in action as a fellow warrior, not just an emergency measure. Despite being 'Archer', the small bow on Robin's arm is more like a weapon of surprise — it's no wonder that he was often in the backrow during fights. 

Despite that, it's refreshing to stand side by side. Though, Robin isn't a quiet fighter. As soon as his Master ushers him to the front line, he starts complaining.

"Who does she think I am? The frontline is a place for foolhardy idiots."

"Is that so?" Siegfried asks, he's not offended. He's not stupid either. He's aware of the risks, always, but he has a simple wish for the current conflict. If he can keep fighting like this — if he can keep doing the right thing, fighting as a hero — he'll be content.

"But, since I'm barely a mediocre archer, maybe this is punishment! Don't worry, I'll be at least making a token effort." But despite his words, Robin gives it his all. Siegfried notices, because at the end of a fight when there's blood and gore splattered all over Siegfried's armor, Robin is right there next to him sighing and brushing gunk off of his cloak or getting splatter off of his face.

One time, Siegfried has to say: "I have to say, you're an exceptional archer, and well worth the title of Heroic Spirit."

In response, Robin sticks his tongue out at Siegfried, unexpectedly childish and replies with: "Hero? Bah, don't lump me in with the likes of you! I don't have the stomach for that kind of knightly ideal."

* * *

Their Master hands out Craft Essences — well, more she piles them up on a big table and enthusiastically calls everyone over to grab one. Siegfried loiters, he doesn't feel the need to barge in and grab a specific one — whichever his Master assigns to him is fine.

Robin seemed to have the same idea, but something catches his eye and he slips close to the table, snatches one and easily waves his way out of the crowd of Servants. By now their Master has summoned so many — Robin mentioned the other day he's probably seen his last days on the frontline, with how busy it's become around Chaldea.

Probably not, Siegfried had wanted to say, in reassurance. But it was only his own dream, probably, to keep fighting for justice to the end, so he kept quiet. He does wonder what caught Robin's attention but then his Master waves him over and presses a portrait into his hands.

"Let's continue to do our best together!" She says, grins. He (admits to himself) thinks that the portrait, a woman in a black dress, is somewhat frightening... but accepts every gift with equal grace. The pat on the back his Master gives him feels suspiciously like a promise, rather than encouragement, but he accepts that as well.

* * *

"Honestly, what a pain," Robin mutters, next to Siegfried. The ship they're on rocks, heaves and threatens to pitch them into the ocean. Siegfried feels somewhat unsteady, but Robin is absolutely miserable. "There's not even any _seaweed._ " And, certainly, no trees or grass.

"Well, it's time to get to work!" Their newest companion, a lance wielding Servant, seems completely unperturbed by the ocean's movement. 

"Go on and rush forward into battle, I'll be right there behind you, at a safe distance." Robin calls out. But even as he says that, he straightens up a little.

"And we're not far behind." Siegfried says, immediately after. He offers his hand to Robin. "Shall we?"

"I'm not in such a poor shape to need a hand from you, Mr. Gold Saber." Robin sighs, shrugs, makes a grand show of holding up his empty hands and steadying his steps. "Someone has to be looking out for our well-being here and it's not you or him."

"As always, thank you." Siegfried is as earnest as ever. Robin still hasn't acclimated to it and scratches at his cheek, not quite blushing.

"Save it for when it really matters." He grumbles.

"Gratitude shouldn't be a rare resource."

"Well, aren't you just full of wisdom today!" Robin loads his crossbow. Siegfried unsheathes his sword as they move forward to take on a wave of pirates. "But, did you know this — it's not in human nature to be overly kind."

It can't be advice or admission, so Siegfried figures it must be experience. He does the first thing that comes to mind — places his hand on Robin's shoulder. "It is in our nature to help each other."

Robin looks so surprised, before he laughs. "You sound like the fakest person in the world." But he briefly puts his hand on top of Siegfried's, and ducks his head. "It's almost encouraging."

Then the moment passes and they enter battle. Robin matches Siegfried's steps, and for the first time, guards his back. It's an unusually comfortable formation for them.

* * *

Robin isn't reckless in a fight. He's a thinker. It's the same strategy that gets him mistaken as a coward — that and the fact that he talks the way he does. Live to fight another day, he tells their Master all the time, even though he never follows his own advice.

And, honestly, neither would she. She's the kind of person who runs in with both her fists raised, she's ready.

Against a wave of archers made from bones, however, Robin drops his right hand over one of his many hidden pockets — over time Siegfried has become familiar with them, a pocket for extra crossbow bolts, one for birdseed, one to hold items, and one to hold his knives. Siegfried doesn't know which pocket Robin protects with his hand, just that it costs him the rest of the fight. 

"Clumsiness! I've been telling you I'm no top tier archer." Robin waves it off, shoves his hand in their Master's face when she wants to take a closer look at it. "Shouldn't you be more concerned about what they're doing anyway?" Eurayle and Asterios, having a moment. Robin is the Master of Misdirection, after all.

Later, Robin thinks he's alone when he tries to scrub blood off of the portrait that had been in his pocket. He pins the portrait down with his right elbow and dabs at it with his other hand. "Ahhh, don't look at me like that old man." He mutters to it.

"Need a hand?" Siegfried announces himself.

"Nosy, huh?!" Robin's immediate response is defensive. But instead of shrinking back he leans over the portrait, almost aggressive and smirks. "Didn't you hear what I said before? There's other things to pay attention to if you're so bored that you've come looking for me."

Siegfried says nothing, but waits. He waits long enough that Robin — who can't wait anymore — deflates a little, sits back and groans. "I said, don't you have something better to do?"

"Need a hand?" Siegfried asks again.

Robin laughs, defeated. "Maybe just one, if you can spare it."

"I've got two you can have." Siegfried even breaks a small smile. Robin groans again, louder and rocks back so he can stare at the ceiling before rocking forward and exhaling heavily.

"Then let me use you." 

Siegfried doesn't ask about the portrait — an older man with a stern expression dressed in green — and Robin doesn't tell him. They clean the blood off the best they can and Robin immediately tucks the picture away again, pets his pocket and seems to be in better spirits.

* * *

This time, Robin heads out before Siegfried, he doesn't even have any words of jest. The normal jeer about knighthood, bravery or fools rushing off to their death is gone. The monstrosity before them casts a long shadow, its many eyes twitching and pulsing.

"Hey, aren't you coming with?" Robin asks. The bluebird on his shoulder chirps encouragement.

"Always," Siegfried's response is immediate and his feet are already moving forward. Their Master runs up between them, grabbing their hands briefly to squeeze them.

"Me too!" She says and then squares her shoulders, "Let's take it down."

"Honestly, Master, you're so demanding! Don't you know that I'm delicate?" Robin shakes his head, "You're setting me up to fail here."

"We're in good company, allies against evil." Siegfried says, reading between the lines easily.

"Oh, I know." And she does.


End file.
